Sanctuary
by Fairia13
Summary: Sometimes things aren’t always as they seem, or as you want them to be.


Synopsis: Sometimes things aren't always as they seem, or as you want them to be.

_Welcome to my world she said,_

_Do you feel alive?_

_She said,_

_It's all a bad dream spinning in your lonely head._

-3 Doors Down "Down Poison"

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Down Poison

Hot. Not nearly as arid as his native land, and a great deal more green, but hot none the less. Still, it was beneath him to react to the climate so he trudged on, blithely ignoring the people who skirted his path as he continued on.

It had always been like that. He walked, they moved, eyes wide in nervous anticipation of the next rampage. '_Insects'_ the voice in his head snarled, before it was too pushed aside.

He'd had enough. The message was delivered, the mission done, and he was ready to go. Not necessarily _home_ – if the arid, desolate Sand country could even be called that – but somewhere.

He hated being stagnant.

"Oi! Hey Garraaaaa!"

He stopped, turned, and faced the young man running – _'More like ricocheting, really,'_ – towards him, little more than a blur of neon orange.

'_A deplorable ninja…'_

The deplorable ninja in question skidded to a halt, arms flailing for balance as he slid past the silent red-headed nin. Gaara followed his movements as he swung around with a sheepish grin on his face.

'_Does he ever **walk** anywhere?'_

"Hey Gaara, what's happening?" Naruto asked, his arm slung back over his head as hand rubbed the back of his neck.

Gaara blinked, then looked off to the side as if looking for an answer. _'What kind of question is that?'_ In the years since the Chuunin exams, and later the failed rescue of the Uchichia, the two of them had crossed path many times. Their similar backgrounds had given them room to form an uneasy truce, which had budded into a tentative alliance, and eventually formed the casual relationship they had now. When their paths crossed they would eat, or talk, or simply sit. Of course, Naruto was the one mostly doing the talking while Gaara was the one simply sitting, but that was beside the point. It was unique enough that anyone was comfortable enough in his presence to try and engage him in casual conversation, let alone to do so on a more-or-less regular basis.

Naruto cocked his head at the vague look of confusion on his friend's face, waited for a moment, then took pity on the solitary nin and rephrased his question.

"What have you been doing recently?"

Gaara shrugged in response, silently relieved that this question was a little…clearer. "Not much. Standard missions, mostly acting as a courier for messages between villages."

"Well, what are you doing now?" Naruto asked, fishing for someone to eat ramen with.

Gaara shrugged. He knew where this was heading.

"Great! Let's go get some food then." Naruto enthused. He didn't reach out to grab the boy's wrist to encourage him along, as he would have done with Lee or Sakura. He knew better, having received a broken wrist the last time he tried. Instead he strode ahead a couple of steps then looked back to make sure Gaara was following.

He was.

Head tilted back, apparently studying the tops of the building he passed, with his hands stuffed casually in his pockets. Gaara walked along, looking for all the world like he was merely strolling in the same direction as him.

Naruto sighed. He had known Gaara for six years, since the Chuunin games when they were twelve. Gaara had been the enemy then, and a formidable one at that, and the years had done little to soften the sand nin's hard demeanor.

The next time they had met had been on that last, failed mission to rescue Sasuke from Orochimaru. The trio from Sand – Gaara, Temari and Kankuro – had aided them in returning safely to the village.

They had encountered several times since, then, on missions, or whenever one of them was delivering a message on their village's behalf. They had taken to training together, eventually joined by Rock Lee, sometimes accompanied by Sakura, for no reason other than it was an escape from reality.

For Lee, it was a time when his talents in hand-to-hand combat could shine as he would teach the others what he knew. For Naruto, it was escape from the day-to-day realities that plagued them. For Gaara, it was simply a place to belong, where no one in the group was terrified of his very presence.

After the loss of Sasuke, a lot had changed for the once-inseparable trio. The grief had been wrenching, the loss of comrades shattering, and the burning outrage that this _monster_ had _dare _taken one of their own. Hinata's tears, Ino's mute shock and Sakura's stark grief were forever etched into his mind.

Ino had been reassigned to another team and had made the rank of Chuunin a few years ago.

Hinata had made Chuunin, but had decided that her talents were best used as a teacher at the academy. Ino was also a Chuunin, and though she was still good friends with both Chioji and Shikamaru, over time she seemed less and less motivated to become a Jounin and spent more and more time working in her parents flower shop. Secretly, Naruto thought that by the time all was said and done, she would most likely take over the shop and that would be that.

Sakura was the one who had most surprised him. Her stark grief at the failed rescue of Sasuke was entirely predictable, but the aftermath of the grief was completely unexpected. She had abandoned the idea of being a shinobi in favor of becoming a medic-nin. She and Tsunande had hit it off rather well and Sakura had become the fifth Hokage's apprentice, which, really, was no small honor. Several want-to-be medic's had already applied for the position, and the prestige that came with being the Hokage's apprentice before Sakura was chosen – or rather, had marched in and _demanded _to be chosen, Naruto thought with a small snicker.

Initially, the shock of Sakura's announcement had completely blown him away, but once Naruto had sat down and thought about it, he supposed he should have seen it coming. Sakura was strong in her own right, but hers was a completely human strength, not enhanced by curses, familial ties or any supernatural powers what so ever. Her keen intelligence had been an extreme benefit, but more often than not she was left in the dust of her companion's physical prowess.

However, her abilities had left her with all of the skills necessary for a medical specialist. Her intelligence and ability to memorize made her a quick learner, and her kind heart and caring nature made her sympathetic and compassionate to those in pain. The indomitable stubborn streak, which had annoyed Sasuke and Naruto to no end, was exceptionally useful on a battle field or in the hospitable. Coupled with her absolute control over her chakara, and she was almost ideally suited for a medic.

So it had been. Sakura had become the personal apprentice to the fifth Hokage – a prestigious and coveted position to say the least – and was well on her way to becoming an Jounin-ranked medic.

Naruto smiled affectionately at the thought of his friend. Their team may have been disbanded, but he and Sakura had become closer for all the trials they had endured together. Though he still loved her fiercely, the love had altered from a youth's infatuation to that of a friend who had slowly but surely become his family.

When Sakura had come of age a few years ago, she had moved out and instead of them both living in separate holes in the wall, they had combined their finances and had moved into a decent-sized apartment. They had their own room, shared a bathroom, and had a kitchen and living room. It was small, but it was theirs, and a far cry better than the place Naruto had lived in prior, a small efficiency apartment-like apartment where the kitchen and living room were one room and the bathroom was so small you could barely turn around. Not to mention that the bedroom had been little bigger than a closet….

Naruto paused as a thought occurred to him, belatedly realizing he stood at the entrance to the ramen shop. Opening the door, he ambled inside and slid into a seat at the counter, Gaara sliding in next to him. They ordered, and as they were waiting for the orders to be filled, Naruto asked the question that had been burning for the past few minutes.

"Gaara," He wondered aloud, "where do you live?"

The boy in question merely looked at him in bafflement. _'What does he mean "where do I live?" I live in the country of the Sand.'_

"I mean, do you live by yourself or what? What is your home like?" Naruto amended.

Gaara winced, mostly because he knew the other wouldn't be satisfied with a description of the Sand. Naruto had been to the country of Sand and knew exactly what the climate was like. Live by himself? Whom else would he live with? No one would live in the same dwelling as the infamous sand demon, not since…

Abruptly the door slammed closed. He would no think of those times, _he_ _would not!_

"I live alone." He said casually, striving to sound as if the question didn't bother him. His sister and brother, he knew, had grown up with their father. He had never been a part of their lives until he had been assigned to the same team as them. Even then, his father had remained an elusive figure, never part of his life yet always watching him.

_Alone._ The thought squeezed something inside him, a dull pain, but persistent none the less. His apartment was tiny, on the outskirts of the village but still within the walls. One bedroom which contained a bed and a few changes of clothing in a small dresser. A bathroom with a sink, toilet, and shower stall and almost no room to move between the three. A kitchen with enough room to turn around but little else, separated from the living room by a counter space which doubled as his eating place. Large enough for one, but sparse. The walls were sandy beige, the color the apartment came with, the bed, and set of drawers were second hand, as was the couch and snowy television that sat in front of it and the lamp that was propped on the end table. There were exactly two bowls and two sets of silverware in the kitchen, and maybe a plate somewhere. If there was any food in the fridge, it was spoiled by now.

"But what is your home like?" Naruto persisted, oblivious to the tension.

'_Home? That foul place is not my home.'_

"I have no home." Was the response he heard emerging from his lips.

Naruto, for once, kept his mouth shut and the two finished eating in silence. After settling their tab, Naruto once again turned to his silent companion.

"Where are you headed now?" He asked.

Gaara shrugged, turning to face the sinking sun as it bled scarlet across the horizon. "Back, I guess."

"All the way to sand? Now?" Naruto asked. A single nod of the head was his answer. "Why don't you just spend the night here, and head back in the morning? Sakura and I have a pull out couch in the living room, and an extra set of sheets."

Gaara stared in wide-eyes amazement as Naruto rambled on, saying how it was Sakura's turn to cook and all, so he wouldn't be eating ramen for lunch _and_ supper. Was this boy stupid enough to allow him in his household, to permit him to remain while he and the girl slumbered? Did he not know who he was? _What_ he was?

"No." He stated, the harsh quality of his voice shocking even him, and Naruto stopped in mid-sentence and stared at him wide-eyed.

"No." He repeated softening his tone and forcing his voice past the obstacle in his throat. Was this boy daft? He was a monster. He harbored a demon within him which would gladly kill him in his sleep if given the chance. Granted, the seal placed upon him secured the demon to dormancy within him, but why would the boy take that chance? Gaara himself didn't sleep more than a few nights a week, and then only alone, in the middle of the desert or woods.

"Thank you." He added, his voice sounding raspy, harsh grains of sand scraping his vocal chords raw. "But…no."

And with a blast of sand, he was gone.

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Scarlet. It bled across the sky, swirling with the fading gold, tingeing passing clouds petal pink and electric orange. A warm breeze blew across the field, rustled the tree leaves. Everything was cast in sable shadows, shadows darkening to deepest black as they receded further into the forest.

However, the plain she stood on was illuminated in golds and oranges, still fairly well lit, and perfect for her purposes. Facing North, she adopted a relaxed pose, then took a deep breath, relaxing all of her muscles with it.

Sliding into a familiar battle stance, the most basic one taught to all shinobi candidates, she looked up at the stars above her, just beginning to peek out. Right foot back, shoulder-width apart. Bring your left had up, fingers together, thumb close in a parody of a knife. Repeat with right, but bring the hand back and closer to your face. Basic. Just like her life.

She rose each morning and went for a five-kilometer run with Lee and Naruto, when they returned, leaving Lee at his home on the back swing, the two of them would play rock, paper scissors for the shower, and the loser had to clean the bathroom. Why they played rock, paper scissors she wasn't entirely sure, she only knew that it had started as a joke and had stuck. While the second person cleaned the bathroom, the first made breakfast. After they would do dishes and report in to work. Dinner duties alternated between the two of them, with the other cleaning up after.

Simple. Basic.

Her right hand swung out behind her in a knife-hand strike, connecting with her imagined opponents throat as she brought her left knee up and around for a viscous round house kick. Completing the turn, and facing the setting sun, her left fist struck out, connecting with the second opponents face. Faster she moved squaring off with her three imagined opponents, reacting to the most likely moves with the most efficient counter.

Again, like her life. Though there were a few constants in life, even they had the tendency to shift and change before sliding back to normal. When one of them was on a mission, she had the house to herself. It was always pleasant at first, no fighting for the shower or bickering over who's turn it was to clean, but it quickly became wearing. She worried for Naruto, as she knew he did when she was on a mission, and she missed the petty little arguments.

Faster the punches, the kicks, the spins and blocks came. Realizing what she was doing, Sakura slowed her movements. After all, this wasn't about speed, it was about technique. If your wrist wasn't straight, you could break it when you connected on the punch. If you kicked with the toes instead of the ball of your foot, you would break them. If the form was sloppy, the movements off, the technique flawed, you would die, leaving those you cared for unprotected.

Slowly, almost lazily, Sakura brought her foot up in a side kick, aiming for her imagined opponent's waist. Pausing there before continuing on, she continued the ascent towards her opponent's chest, then face. Equally slowly, she brought her foot down and relaxed back into her basic pose before straightening and bowing west, towards the setting sun.

That was when she saw him. For an endless moment they stood, pale icy blue against sea foam green, vivid scarlet against palest pink, one welcoming, the other shocked.

Then he looked away, a vaguely panicked look on his face and in a swirl of sand he was gone.

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Poetry in motion. He had heard the phrase before, and had often scoffed at it. But that was precisely the phrase he would use to describe the girl standing out on the plains, practically glowing in the late afternoon light.

It had been his intention, when he left Naruto at the ramen shop, to simply head back to Sand, but the figure in the afternoon light had garnered his attention. She had been standing, perfectly still before slowly sliding back into a basic defensive stance. Without warning, she had exploded into a flurry of motion, punching, blocking, kicking, each movement precise and controlled. However, it was woefully apparent that her head wasn't in the game, so Gaara paused, arrested by the sight, and took a moment to study her.

Legs that seemed almost impossibly long were encased black pants, bare feet rising slowly and surely through the air. No equipment, save a pouch of kunai on her thigh adorned her, leaving bare arms free. She wore a scarlet top, the stiff material bending with the movements of her body. Large eyes, the exact color indiscernible in the fading light stared at nothing in particular. Her hair swirled about her, glowing a pinkish-orange, individual strands reflecting streaks of pure white light back at the setting sun.

'_Beautiful.'_

Arrested he watched as her movement continued, eventually slowing and halting all together. Slowly she drew a breath in, then turn west to face the fading light and bowed. He knew the exact moment she spotted him, standing there on the edge of her clearing. She froze and watched him, something he couldn't decipher in her eyes.

He couldn't stand it. Whatever it was, it was too close, too personal, too _real_ to possibly be acknowledged as valid. Pulling the sand tight around him, he disappeared.


End file.
